Hunted
by TheOncomingFanfic
Summary: When Sam Winchester is Reaped for the 72nd annual Hunger Games, his brother Dean volunteers to take his place. When Dean meets District 11's Tribute, Castiel, Dean does everything he can to fight how he feels and win the Games, but some fights are meant to be lost and rules meant to be broken. Supernatural characters set in Suzanne Collins' Hunger Games world. Destiel.
1. Chapter 1

I wake up to the feeling of Sam kicking in his sleep and crying. He did this last year as well, when he was twelve. He must have been having a nightmare. Of course he was. This was the day of the Reaping. I roll over and prop myself up on my elbow, looking at my little brother, only thirteen, cry in his sleep.

'Sam,' I say, shaking him gently 'Sammy wake up.' His eyes flash open and he jumps awake. He grabs onto me, a habit he has when he gets scared. I hold onto him, trying to reassure him, and failing.

'Dean,' he whispers 'it's me, it's going to be me, they'll pick me!' We had this conversation last year, only now, since his name is in the ball more times since he took the Tessare behind my back, he is more afraid. Still, I do my big brother duty and calm him down.

'Hey, hey, Sammy. How many times is your name in there, huh? Eight times, OK?' Sam nods, following along with me 'Eight slips in thousands. They won't pick you, OK?' Sam nods. I forbade Sam to take the Tessare, but when does he ever listen to me?

'I've got to go out, OK? You get a few more hours shut-eye, and I'll be back real soon, got it?' With that, Sam gets back into bed and I get dressed into my hunting clothes, grab my bag on weapons from under my bed, and slip out the door.

The air is quiet, but nowhere near peaceful. Instead it is terrifying and makes me want to puke. As I cross our part of District 12, the Seam, I can't help but think about how many times my name is in the bowl. Since I'm sixteen, it was already in five times, but after taking the Tessare for me, my dad and Sam, it went up to twenty times. Guess the odds aren't in my favour. I get to the fence and stop listening for the hum of electricity, which isn't there. Not that it ever is. I slip through the fence quietly and into the woods, where I'm finally free. According to Charlie, I'm always happiest in the woods.

A squirrel scurries up a tree trunk and I take out my knife, creeping closer to it. When I'm close enough, I get the little sucker right in the back of his neck. Feeling satisfied, I shove him into my bag and sling it on my shoulder.

'Nice work,' a voice calls out from behind me. If I didn't know that voice, I would be terrified, but since I know that voice like the back of my hand, I relax, and turn round to see Charlie Bradbury.

I met Charlie when I was 12, out on a hunt alone; I had gotten a rabbit right in the back of the neck. I went to pick it up, when Charlie swooped in and lifted it. She waved it above me, teasing. I scaled the tree and told her to give it back. When she refused, I knocked her out of the tree with a simple kick, but had grabbed her wrist just as she fell. Ever since that, she and I had become best friends; she is practically my sister, although she is also a real pain in the ass.

We are sitting on a hill, overlooking the valley, our spoils from the hunt beside us. It seems even the animals are being generous.

I can feel how nervous Charlie is. At fourteen, her name is in the ball fifteen times, after taking the Tessare for herself, her two brothers and her sister, who aren't old enough for the Games yet. Ever since Charlie's parents died, she was left to raise them on her own. She's done a good job, although I'd never say that to her face.

'Hey,' Charlie nudges my knee with her foot, a faint smile on her face, 'check it out.' She produces a loaf of bread, real stuff, not the dense loaves we have to make.

'Holy shit,' I laugh, 'Charlie where the hell?' Charlie just shakes her head at me and hands me over a half.

'Happy Hunger Games!' she mimics the voice of Gabriel, the man who comes every year for the Reaping.

'And may the odds be _ever_ in your favour!' I say back to her in the same tone. We feel the need to joke, because isn't it better than being scared out of your wits? And besides, the Capitol accent is too funny to not mock.

Charlie's gaze is focused out on the horizon, on the world beyond District 12. 'What if we did?' she asks me. I don't even need to ask what, because I know what she is saying. And I can't. She's asking _what if we left District 12._

'We can't,' I reply, pretending to be more interested in my bread. I find the idea of leaving amazing, but I can't. Where the hell would we go? We'd be found by the Capitol and punished. And even if that wasn't a possibility, how could I leave Sam, who is the only person I am certain I love? And Charlie devotes herself to her siblings.

'Yeah. I know,' Charlie sighs. I shake her shoulder gently, to show no hard feelings.

'Come on.' We slip back into District 12 silently and get our trading at the black market, the Hob, done well, people are more generous than usual, and I get 'good lucks' from near enough everyone.

'See you later, then,' Charlie says when we have to go our separate ways.

'See you,' I say with a smile.

'Wear something pretty,' she says, playful as always.

When I get home, Sam is sitting at the table, already in his Reaping clothes. My dad is there too, looking better than usual. Ever since our mother got killed when Sam was a baby, he had never been his usual self, and obsessed over finding what had killed her.

'Hey, short stuff,' I say, ruffling Sam's hair. He just laughs and fixes it. The 'short stuff' isn't fair, considering Sam's height.

'I got some hot water ready, and laid your clothes out,' my dad tells me. I look up and give him a grateful nod.

When I've cleaned all the woods off and dressed in my Reaping clothes, I go back into the kitchen and see Sam's outfit fully. Both are hand-me-downs, the trousers are nearly long enough, but the shirt hangs off him. I laugh and bean down in front of him, tucking it in.

'You've got to look smart, Sammy,' I tell him, and he gives me a small smile. I protect Sam in every way that I can, but I'm powerless against the Reaping.

'I made breakfast,' he tells me, nodding in the direction of the table, where he's laid out a bowl of stew next to his empty bowl.

'Cool. We can have the fish and berries tonight, yeah,' I ask, keeping the mood light. Sam nods in agreement.

'Yeah,' he says. Although we both can cook, Sam is better, so I let him do it as I hunt.

When it's time, Sam, my dad and I make our way to the square. The sunlight is shining and the air is warm, there are cameras set up and the stage is all set. I wonder how it is for the Capitol children, to watch with great excitement instead of fear, to marvel at the Reaping balls instead of fear them. As we near the stage, Sam's grip on my arm tightens.

'Hey, hey, you'll be fine. I promise,' I tell him. Dad has gone off to the perimeters, but he's still watching us.

'I know. So will you. I'll see you after,' he says, which is exactly what I said a year ago. I ruffle his hair as he goes off to stand with the other kids his age, and I stand with the kids my age. On stage, there is the Mayor, Gabriel and District 12's only surviving mentor, Bobby Singer.

Eventually, the Mayor gets up and begins repeating what we have heard several times before. The Treaty of Treason.

'Blah bla war blah bla repentance blah bla all hail the Capitol, we get it,' I mutter, with a few giggles from around me. Now, Gabriel takes his place at the podium.

'Hello, hello,' he says into the microphone 'and welcome to this year's Reaping, where we will choose on courageous young man and woman, for the honour of representing your fine District,' when he says that, you can practically see him shudder, we all know he wants a better District 'in the 72nd annual Hunger Games. Now, ladies first.' He reaches the ball in double quick time and plucks a name out, and I have just enough time to pray for Charlie before he's back at the podium.

'Joanna Harvelle.' I feel relief for about a second, because it isn't Charlie, followed by a feeling of guilt like I'm being punched in the stomach. I know Joanna or Jo as she is known, from school, but I don't talk with her much. I know that she lives alone with her single mother and her family friend, Ash, but that's about it. I can see her now in a blue knee length dress, especially for the Reaping I'm guessing, making her way towards the stage at a normal walking pace, but her steps at stiff and her hands are curled into fists.

'No!' a cry can be heard from the back, it must be her mother 'Jo, no!' At that moment, Jo looks around and we can see the tears in her eyes, and she runs a little and mounts the stage, Gabriel taking her hand as she mounts the steps.

'Well, nice to meet you, Joanna,' Gabriel chuckles, patting her lightly on the shoulder 'now for the boys.' He seems to be taking it slow now, the opposite of how he picked Jo. His finger traces the rim of the glass bowl and he gently slips him hand inside. The arm moves into the centre of the bowl and drags a name out. The pace is torture, and all the while I am hoping it's not me, it's not me, it's not me.

Gabriel moves to the podium and unfolds the paper. The silence is broken. The name is read out. And it's not me.

'Sam Winchester.'


	2. Chapter 2

I remember when Charlie once pushed me too hard when we were on a hunt and I fell into a river. The ice coldness of the water had come over me and all I could feel was a numbing, spreading cold. Another time I had been in a fight in school and got pushed so hard all the air was knocked out of me and the big guy I was fighting sat on me, so I couldn't breathe.

That was how I feel now. Ice cold, unable to breathe or move. My stomach feels like it has been dropped off a 10 storey building and the boy beside me has caught me as I was falling to my knees.

It was a mistake, surely. Sam was on eight slips of paper in thousands. Sure, not as little as his chances were last year, but still. I must have heard it wrong, it must be another Sam.

If I keep telling myself, it will come true.

After the denial, the guilt comes in, stabbing me, over and over. Why had I let him take the Tessare? Why didn't I keep a closer eye on him? This was entirely my fault.

Finally, I see him. He is taking stiff steps toward the stage, staring straight ahead. He doesn't look at me as he passes; he just keeps going, looking straight at the stage, his shoelace starting to come undone.

It's this detail that snaps me back to my senses.

He's just about to reach the steps, Gabriel, holding a hand out to him, when I begin pushing my way through the crowd.

'Sam!' I shout 'Sammy!' I run towards him, he is rooted to the ground in confusion. Gabriel looking slightly amused.

'Sammy,' the Peacekeepers grab me and I push them back, but they have a firm grip on me 'I volunteer! I volunteer!'

Silence falls over the square. Sam's mouth is open in shock, and I'm finally released.

'I volunteer as Tribute!' I can finally run to Sam and throw my arms round him.

'Sam, go find Dad,' I order him. He grabs onto me, shaking his head and digging him fingers into my jacket. Shit, now I'm going to cry, show weakness and lose the Games before they even start.

'Please, I don't have time for this, go to Dad,' I'm fighting hard to keep the tears back.

'No!' Sam is clinging onto me as I try to praise him off me, but I can't. He's pretty strong for his age. He's digging into me with everything he has and screaming after me and if he doesn't let go soon, I'll lose it.

Suddenly, he is lifted off me, and I can almost breathe again. When I look up, I expect to see Charlie, but I don't. It's my dad.

I would expect him to be looking on at me proudly, or even just 'well done', because I was doing my job, watch out for Sam. But he isn't proud. He's upset, as if he doesn't want me to go, and I can see the tears forming in his eye, and I have to fight to hold it together. When he gives me a slight nod, I can actually feel the wave rising.

'Up you go, Dean,' he whispers, his voice breaking, and then he leaves, carrying Sam with him, who appears to have given up screaming and is sobbing silently into my father's shoulder.

'Come on, then,' Gabriel says into the mic, and I'm snapped back to reality for the second time today. I make my way to the stage, where Gabriel leads me by the hand to the microphone. He clears his throat, probably talking about how wonderful it is for District 12 to finally have a volunteer to play in their fight to the death competition. When I see the hills, part of me wishes I had just taken Sam and my father and left with Charlie, where we would never have to fear for our lives….

I notice Gabriel is looking expectedly at me, as is Jo. I can feel a blush coming and do my best to supress it.

'What?' I ask, feeling foolish. Gabriel gives a light laugh, not a mocking laugh, it's quite comforting actually.

'Oh, he's in shock, it's alright we've all been there,' and suddenly I am back to hating him again 'what's your name, son?'

'Dean Winchester.'

'Well,' Gabriel pipes 'I'd bet that was your brother, wasn't it?' I'm prepared to give a catty remark, obviously he is my brother why else would I essentially commit suicide for the pleasure of these Capitol assholes, but one look from Jo silences me, and I come to my senses.

'Yes, yes he is,' I mutter. With a smile, Gabriel addresses the crowd.

'Well, District 12, may I present your gallant Tributes, Joanna Harvelle and Dean Winchester!' He applauds, encouraging the rest to do the same. There is a small scattering of applause throughout the crowd, but not much. It never is. Out of the corner of my eye, I see my dad and Sam, standing at the perimeter.

My dad presses three fingers to his lips and holds them up. Sam does the same. Pretty soon, everyone is, and I bit back the tears. Ellen Harvelle does it too, and I can see Jo duck her head down. Because this gesture means thanks, admiration, goodbye to someone you love. I feel like my family do it because I sacrificed myself to save Sam, and this is why everyone else does. But Ellen? She is saying goodbye to the one thing she has, Jo.

'Well, go on then, shake hands,' Gabriel insists. I turn to Jo, swallowing the lump in my throat and take her hand. Her eyes meet mine, and all I can do is resist the urge to run.

OOOOO

In my room in the Justice Building, I finally can let out a quick cry. I'm crying for my own life, for Jo, and because I'm scared. Who wouldn't be, right?

The first two to come in are obviously my dad and Sam. Sam runs over to me and I open my arms, expecting a hug, and instead get a smack in the face.

'You stupid bastard, Dean,' he yells 'why did you do that? What do we do now, without you?' But then he throws his arms around me, and I cling onto him. My dad is standing close, not meeting my gaze, because he knows what's coming. I untangle Sam from me and march up to him.

'Look at me,' I tell him and he looks, like I am the father and he's the kid 'listen, whatever happens to me, you can't do what you did when mom died. You can't just go and leave Sam alone.' He knows what I'm saying. When our mother died, my father went to pieces. He slept all day, and when he did get up he went off to the woods and left us, me being four and Sam being six months. I had to grow up fast to raise him.

'I won't, Dean,' he says 'I swear. Just do your best to come back. You can hunt, you know you can.' At that moment, I pull my dad in. Even after everything he put me through; I can't bear the thought of never seeing him again. Then I go back to Sam.

'Look,' I begin 'I'm sorry, but you've got to hunt. Meet up with Charlie, she'll help and teach you everything you need to know. Don't ever take the Tessare, got it.' Sam nods quickly, taking everything in.

'Just please come back,' he says. I don't have time to reply before the Peacekeepers are back. Sam clings to me, but I give him a look and he lets go.

'I love you,' I call as they leave. Dad looks back as he goes and mouths something. I can't make it out but I think it's _I'm sorry_.

My next visitor is Charlie. She doesn't waste time with words; she just flings herself into my arms. I cling onto her, everything is familiar to me. The way she smells, her hair, her body, the way it fits into mine from when I've had to lift her on hunts.

'Dean,' she says pulling away from me 'look. You are a hunter, OK? You freaking know you can do this.'

'I can't, Charlie,' I protest 'there are people in there who have been trained, who can throw a knife from 20 feet and still make the hit!'

'Yeah, so,' Charlie says 'but you are Dean Winchester, who can get a bird while it's still flying!'

'You're not wrong,' I joke. I don't want her last memory of me to be me falling to pieces. Charlie laughs and then looks down at the ground.

'I don't know what to say,' she admits 'goodbye?'

'No,' I say, because I'm not going to say goodbye 'not that.' The Peacekeepers open the door, and I know I have about five seconds to say what I have to.

'Thank you, Charlie,' I say, thanking her for everything, for being my rock, for making hunts less lonely, for bringing my family food and expecting nothing in return 'take care of them!' Charlie nods as she leaves.

My next visitor is unexpected; Ash, Jo Harvelle's friend. He clears his throat awkwardly and looks at me.

'That was real brave,' he says 'what you did for him.' I just nod, because I can't think of what to say.

'I'll keep an eye on the kid,' he says 'make sure he's fed.' I look up. Sam now has Charlie and Ash looking out for him. Maybe he and my dad will be fine without me.

'Thank you,' I say. What else do you say to the man whose friend you are going to probably kill? We stand for a long time before the door is opened.

'Good luck, Dean,' Ash says before leaving.

I'm going to need it.

OOOOO

The train station is crawling with reporters and photographers, yelling 'Dean, Joanna, come on give us a smile, this way!' I remember what my dad said to me once, about getting people to like me, so I give a wave and flash a smile to them, making them go nuts. Jo is doing the same, and then Gabriel gets us onto the train.

The speed is amazing. I've never been on anything so fast, the only time I can think of is when I stole a wheelbarrow when I was nine and Sam and I took turns riding in it. My dad near killed me, but it was still the most fun I had in a while. We will be at the Capitol in less than a day.

Gabriel says that Jo and I should probably go and wash up before supper.

'I'm trying not to be offended,' Jo mutters, and I let out a laugh that is quickly disguised with a cough.

I get my own bedroom and a bathroom, with a working shower! I try not to be excited, to remind myself of reality, but come on, my own bathroom! I wash my face, and they have soap, much better than the shit I have to pay 2 squirrels for at home. There's a knock at the door, and I towel my face dry and answer. It's Jo.

'Dinner's ready,' she says, giving me a small smile. We walk into the compartment in silence.

Bobby and Gabriel are already there, not having eaten a thing.

'We wouldn't want to start without you,' Gabriel informs us 'horrid manners.' He gives a glare to Bobby, who has already put food on his plate. I look over at Jo, who is trying not to laugh, and we both give a small smile to one another.

The food is excellent. The starter is a green salad, which is better by miles than the plate of grass we called salad at home. This one has about 12 different kinds of vegetable in it, and I have to control the urge to shove it inside me. Roast potatoes and chicken are next. We could never afford a delicacy like chicken. I notice I am eating fast, and Gabriel is looking a little disgusted.

'A kid with appetite is good,' Bobby assures me. Desert is a small chocolate cake, called a brownie. It's amazing, but after three bites I put my fork down and struggle to keep it all down. I notice Jo is a little pale.

Afterwards, we go into another compartment to watch a recap of the Reaping on TV. A few catch my eye. A strong looking boy, Raphael, from District One, volunteers for a fourteen year old, revealing he doesn't know the kid, but this was his last chance to enter the Games. One commentator says 'now that's the spirit'. A sixteen year old, Ruby, from District Four, walks to the stage with swagger and confidence. There's a thirteen year old from District Seven, Krissy, but no one volunteers for her. Another fourteen year old from 9, named Kevin Tran. You can hear his mother call out for him, and it's heart-breaking. District 10 has a fit looking 18 year old guy, Benny. He looks strong enough to snap me in two. District 11 calls out a 14 year old girl named Meg. When they call out the boy, I start paying attention. Castiel Novak is a boy my age. His dark hair is tousled and his blue eyes are sharp, He is wearing a shirt and jeans, with a dirty trench coat over it. From the moment he is called to the minute he walks onto the stage, I can't take my eyes off him. I can't explain it, but it felt like he and I were the only two people here, even though we weren't together. He looks directly at the camera, and I can't shake the feeling. Then we move on to District 12. I see Sam being called, the fear on his face, and me rushing forward to volunteer. You can't miss the fear in my voice, like I'm scared they'll just take Sam anyway. But you can also hear Sam screaming, and my dad can be seen lifting him away, and I struggle to hold back my tears. Jo takes my hand and gives me a small smile.

'Well, what do you think? Anyone jump out?' a commentator askes.

'Well I've got to say, that Dean Winchester certainly sticks in my mind. A selfless sacrifice like that, he seems like something. But remember, with Tributes like these, anything could happen!'

I look at Jo. I got something good, but no one mentioned her.

'Well done, Dean,' she says. I give her a nod of thanks, mixed with guilt. Among all this I can't stop thinking about one thing. Well, two things.

Castiel Novak, and the feeling he gives me.


End file.
